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I am reflecting on the difference between pedagogical and political space. I tend to prefer the former; I don’t think you can escape the latter. My thoughts below.

Pedagogical space is where people organize themselves to learn. It has what they call “psychological safety.” You can be vulnerable and wrong. In fact, that is the point–to be wrong, to reflect on it, and to adjust. You do messy things like encounter challenging new information and try to make sense of it, or surface your assumptions (things you believed but didn’t know you believed) and adjust them. All with a group of people doing the same thing. There is multi-directional communication, but it isn’t out of control: everyone gets a chance to (and has to) talk; no one person dominates. Reflection and feedback are the coins of the realm. Not just “I love it or I hate it” feedback, but careful, generative, constructive feedback that tells you what you understand well and where you can think a little bit more. File assessment under the feedback category: in pedagogical space, assessments are going all the time–informal, formal, and in-between–of your learning, of the group’s learning, of the teaching, of the interaction, of the value of the information the class is working on, on the goals of the course. Oh, and you buy in and have say, but you also have responsibilities. You have the chance to CHOOSE to be in the space, and to choose the particular way you’ll go about your learning (from a discreet list, likely), but you also have to help uphold the norms. Pedagogical conversations incline towards wondering–sharing data with proposed interpretations. Finally, pedagogical space leaves more capacity in its wake (because people learn, are more developed, have relationships, know better how to learn).

Political space is different. The goal isn’t to learn, it’s to influence or control. Communication is generally unidirectional–from the person who wants to do something to the people who are suposed to let her; the communication is minimal (just enough to get approval) there is little chance for feedback. When feedback happens, it’s stilted, shrunken, a critique (with an ulterior purpose) or a sycophantic agreement. There is less choice–you’re there because it’s your job, say, or it’s the place you use to tell people what to do. Vulnerability is to be avoided (because people will use that to divert your plans), and the last thing you want to do is reflect on your own assumptions. You also desire not to be wrong, and not to admit it if you are. Your gaze is outward, towards the external world you intend to change. There is no real assessment of the team or its conversation or its purpose–if there is assessment, it’s usually of the product of the work of the team. Political conversations incline towards the dogmatic–positions or interpretations without evidence. And, finally, political space leaves the same or less organizational capacity in its wake.

Having said all this you probably can’t have all one or the other, and any group or conversation probably only leans one way or the other. Neither is completely bad or good. Political space, for instance, is what you want when you don’t need to learn, but just need to act. It’s efficient. On the other hand, if you want your team to do some new work it’s never conceived of before, or grow in some important way, or takle a challenging new problem, political space isn’t going to work on its own. Political space does seem to be the societal default, but it doesn’t need to be; by contrast, it seems the great leaders use pedagogical space to great advantage to convey their message. One thing that does seem clear: the people involved need to know what space they’re in. A part of the team following the rules of one when the rest of the group is in the other would be awkward. So maybe the ultimate goal is to let the team pick the one you want based on what you are trying to do, and be open about it.